


Gaping Wound

by justmariamay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, God's A+ Parenting, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmariamay/pseuds/justmariamay
Summary: Michael steps in for Gadreel and saves him from eternal imprisonment. Maybe he shouldn't have.





	Gaping Wound

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Rare Ship Creation Challenge. Propmpt: colors - rusty red.

Gadreel is free as suddenly as he was imprisoned. Chains clang as they fall from his wings and hands. Darkness is washed away from his ears and h can hear. He hears screams and pleads and curses. The doors open and he can see something besides the sense-depriving empty whiteness. But he can’t find his tongue when Father’s voice tells him he’s forgiven. He should be thankful. But words fail him. He just nods and humbly folds his wings.  

“You still here?” Gabriel waits at the doors. “Get up.”

Gadreel tentatively stands and with some difficulty finds his balance. Gabriel looks unusually stern. His armor is covered with blood. Angelic blood. Gadreel doesn’t ask what happened. Now he can hear clearly the desperate voices of his siblings. They tell him horrible things. And it, at least partly, is his fault.

Gadreel follows Gabriel, but stops after making a dozen of unsteady steps.

“Why am I free, Gabriel? Why has Father forgiven me?” he asks.

Gabriel sighs heavily and turns to face him.

“You don’t get to question His will and His forgiveness,” Gadreel can sense the anger hidden between those words.

“I know that I failed Him, unintentionally, but I did it. Tell me, brother, how did I deserve it?” Gadreel threads a thin line. He won’t be surprised if Gabriel just slaps him and orders him to shut up.

“You didn’t deserve it,” Gabriel says bitterly. “Some of us still trust you a lot and they have intervened on your behalf.”

There is more to it, Gadreel suspects. And indeed, Gabriel continues:

“It’s Michael who convinced Him,” the word ‘convinced’ sounds somewhat conflicted. “Don’t ask me how, see for yourself. But I warn you, Gadreel, if you betray us again, unintentionally or not, if you waste your second chance, I shall kill you with my bare hands. Understood?”

“Understood,” Gadreel confirms. So, now he’s under Gabriel’s command. Well, he isn’t sure he’d handle taking direct orders from Father again.

Gabriel takes them to some field covered with hot cinder. With horror Gadreel realizes that this is all what’s left of Eden.

“Michael! Ah, there you are. Couldn’t find more comfortable place?”

At first it seems like Gabriel is talking to empty space. But then the grey air a bit afar shifts and takes a form, revealing the archangel. Michael’s once perfectly white snowy wings are now mixed with this sizzling dirty blackness. His piercing green eyes linger on Gadreel then they move back to Gabriel.

“Don’t look at me like this. He needs to know, Michael,” Gabriel throws out his hands. “Report to me when you’re done, I’ll have few tasks for you,” Gabriel tells Gadreel sternly, nods at Michael stiffly and disappears raising a cloud of ash in his departure.

Gadreel’s eyes sting and he coughs. When his vision clears, he looks at the swords buried in the ground near Michael’s sitting form. They look rusted, but no, it’s all dried blood. He approaches Michael slowly not knowing how to start conversation. The battle’s been over just recently. And Lucifer, the brightest of stars, has fallen. So have many others. And so many of their brothers and sisters are dead. Gadreel can’t even perceive death yet. But Michael was in the middle of it and seems wrong and selfish to talk about Gadreel’s own issue.

Michael doesn’t stand, but he lets his wings trail down along the ground. He doesn’t have armor on him. He looks terrible. And somehow more beautiful than Gadreel has ever seen him before. It strange to look down at him.

“How are you, Michael?” he asks gently.

“I’m fine, Gadreel,” Michael smiles. “I’m glad to see you unharmed.”

Too bad Gadreel can’t say the same about Michael. His wounds are fading, but they are so many. And his wings are damaged so badly and… there is something else about them but Gadreel can’t put his finger on it.

“Wish I could be here,” oh how he wishes he could take at least few of all this arrows and spears instead. Michael nods and smiles again, a streak of blood leaves the corner of his mouth. “I wish I were here,” he repeats. “But why am I here now?”

Gabriel and his strange choice of words made Gadreel worried.

“Because Heaves still need you,” Michael averts his eyes for a moment. “Father had doubts about you, but I didn’t. I showed him how much I trust you.”

He winces in pain and his right hand grasps his left shoulder.

“What did you do?” Gadreel asks.

For some reason, he feels like he’s not going to like the answer.

“Father took my wing as payment for your transgression. And…” Michael stops.

Gadreel can’t believe he hasn’t noticed. He walks behind Michael and what he sees makes him sick. One of upper wings was torn out with meat and the broken bone sticks out. It looks infected too. Ragged edges are of dark red color. Just how bad does it hurt?

He goes down on one knee and his hand stops inches away from it. The scorching heat is coming from it. His dry throat gets even dryer.

“And what, Michael? What were you going to say?” he urges, though he’s afraid to hear it.

Michael’s shoulder rise and fall as breaths evenly.

“And… if you misstep again, I’ll pay for it,” he speaks quietly and, while Gadreel’s heart is breaking to pieces, adds. “I agreed to it because I know you won’t betray me. And if, by some cruel twist of fate, you do, then I’ll deserve it. I trust you, Gadreel. And we need you. Don’t worry, the wing will grow back,” he promises.

Tears flood angel’s sight. This is too much. Why didn’t Father take a wing out of his spine instead? He’s sure it would hurt less. What did he do to earn such trust from Michael? The worst thing is that he can’t even be grateful for this sacrifice, because… because it wasn’t just an honest mistake.

Gadreel is ashamed. So ashamed that he can’t keep Michael in the dark, no matter how cruel the truth is.

“I swear I never wanted it come to this, but I wanted them to be free,” he confesses. “They weren’t just animals, they had a right to choose… You… you shouldn’t have defended me. I am guilty. I let it happen.”

It’s too late for this. Michael has already suffered the consequences of his decision. Gadreel doesn’t know what to expect. He’s ready to be thrown back in his cell. He’s ready for Michael to smite him. But Michael is silent, unmoving like a stone, only blood and cold sweat are dripping down his back. Has he even heard him?

“Michael?” he calls uncertain.  No response, as if Michael is not here at all. Gadreel, as carefully as he can, puts his hand on the stiff heated shoulder. “Please, say something,” he begs.   

Silence is too heavy, so when it breaks - it hits Gadreel hard.

“I don’t have anything else to say. What’s done is done.”

Michael’s voice is quiet, shaky but clean from emotions other than pain. Something shifts in Gadreel’s perception. The wound grows, consuming all the space he has in sight and it feels like his fingers drown in this horrible burning bloody abyss. He jerks his hand back and misses the way Michael shudders at the loss of contact.  

“I… I’ll leave you then,” there is nothing else Gadreel can offer, so he turns and goes.

He’s sure he imagines a hitched breath from behind. He hopes he imagines something that sounds like suppressed crying. Michael doesn’t cry. Never. But Gadreel’s thoughts chant a meaningless prayer: ‘ _God, Lord, Father our holy…’_ \- and he tries hard not to turn back and gather Michael in his arms and never let go, tries harder not to run back, fall on his knees and cover Michael’s hands with kisses, like he wanted for most part of his life.

He leaves and Michael doesn’t stop him.

_Oh Lord, oh Lord, Father our holy…_

**Author's Note:**

> Turned out much darker than intented. I mean I wanted to end with forgiveness and fluff and kisses! I wanna write one or two chapters more to fix it, but for now it is what it is. Ouch.


End file.
